Hawk ducked deeper behind the rock when he saw the woman in trousers freeing his black travel companion. They should not know that he had come back – like some other things nobody in or around White Skull should know about him.
For example, he had told Zenobia only half the truth. Hawk had been an actor in his youth, but he wasn`t a priest, nor had he ever been one. He had a letter from a fictional Bishop introducing him as Reverend Martin Pendergast, but he was neither a Reverend nor was his name Pendergast.
Actually, his name wasn`t „Hawk“ either, but he had got used to that nickname since none of the Americans he knew were able to spell „Haakon“ correctly.
He had left Norway five years ago, only to find himself involved in the Civil War soon after. Hawk had been a bank clerk in Oslo and so, he soon had become the purser of the 3rd Texas riflemen. However, this post had not prevented him from getting severely wounded and he got arrested by the Yankees whilst still in hospital in the autumn of 1862. After his recovery, Hawk had served as the right hand of the warden of the POW camp in which he was interned. Until 1864, he had helped to improve the conditions there a bit and also helped some of the Southerners to escape, though he had no intention to go back to the field once more. Hawk had sworn to never again kill a person. However, people who thought that he was weak or a coward sometimes had to learn the opposite.
After two years, Hawk had made quite a sum by small embezzlements and in one night, he had left for the West where he soon had become the second-in-command of an insurance company in Tucson.
This company had become a bit suspicious about the fact that the White Skull silver mine got robbed more than once and had asked for insurance money every time. So, Hawk had done some researches and found out that the gang of robbers – led by a woman, strange enough – not only concentrated on wagons leaving the mine, but also held up stage coaches. Not often enough to alert the Army, but there had been three robberies since the winter of 1864. Each time, the coach drivers had disappeared together with the robbers and it was obvious that they had been accomplices.
Hawk had found out that the route to White Skull was quite insignificant and so, there was no regular coach service. Whenever there were some passengers or enough post, Wells Fargo hired some men as drivers and sent a stage coach to the town. So, it was quite easy for any criminals to hire as coach drivers.
His researches had also shown Hawk that the robbers wanted to avoid violence. They only attacked coaches with harmless people on it. Women, children – or priests. So, he had persuaded the company of his plan: he would take the next coach, paying enough money that they did the trip wether the coach was full or not. If they got ambushed, he would manage to follow the robber`s tracks and find out about their hideout.
So, after he had disguised as Reverend Prendergast, he had travelled with only Zenobia as a travel companion. His runaway had not been by panic, but part of his plan. Hawk had hidden near the coach and had observed the robber`s getaway. Of course, he could not run behind them whilst they were mounted, but he could watch them with the little spyglass he had hidden in his boot and found out that they were heading towards the mountains.
The drivers had called themselves Hank Olson and Pete Smith, but sure these were aliasses. However, Hawk had recognized something else. The thieves` horses had been neither sweaty nor exhausted, meaning that the hideout could not be far away from here.
Hawk had decided to keep that in mind and to go to White Skull for further investigation. He had intended to free Zenobia and to make friends with her, but that other woman had forestalled him. So, he decided for another plan.
He ripped his sleeve and covered himself with some dust before he approached the coach and played the roll of the remorseful coward that had left an innocent woman in the thug`s hands. Obviously, both Andrea and Zenobia believed him and so, they took him with them to White Skull.
***
Cuchillo had reached the edge of the hills when a moaning told him that Arina had regained her consciousness.
„Mhhmmmmm! Uuuhhhmmmm!“
Arina squirmed and flailed on the horse`s back and frantically screamed through her gag. Then, she reached for the leather cleaving her mouth and tried to pull it away. To the girl`s horror, the leather had already dried in the sun and shrinked. She could not get rid of it with her numb fingers.
„Mmmhhrrrrr! Uuuhhhhmmmm! Mmmmhhhhhhhmmmm!“
Her flailing made the horse jib. So, Cuchillo approached and cut her ankles from the stirrups, followed by her wrists. He then dumped Arina on the ground. Before she could even think of wriggling away, the Apache had cut her wrists loose and bent her arms behind her back. He crossed her wrists in her neck and tied them together before tying them to the ends of the leather band cleave-gagging her. Now, every attempt to move her hands down pulled at the corners of her mouth and pushed the balled up sock even deeper into her throat.
„Uuuhhmmm! Mhhmmmm!“
Without a word, Cuchillo grabbed the girl`s still bound ankles, bent her legs and connected her ankle and her wrist tie, hogtying the girl and forcing her to arch her head back. Her slip was crumpled around her legs, revealing her thighs and the seams of her knickers.
„Mhhmmmmmpphh! Uuhhhmmmmm! Hmmmmmmm!“
Arina now had tears in her eyes and moaned not only from fear, but also from pain. But the Apache neither said a word nor did he show any sign of emotion. He just loaded the bundled up girl back on the saddle, secured her with some ropes and continued his journey, ignoring her muffled screams.
***
„I will accentuate the fact that a grown man run away from the burglars whilst you faced them“, Andrea said whilst she was working on her printing press. The „White Skull Gazette“ was run only by her and she only managed two volumes a week, but now, she had an extra story about the latest robbery with an eye witness she had just interviewed.
„Well, I did not have much of a chance to run away“, Zenobia sighed. Immediately after they had shown Reverend Pendergast the way to the hotel, Andrea had insisted that Zenobia would come with her and help her with the next newspaper. She had more than willingly accepted. This woman fascinated her. Andrea was sure over 30, but there seemed to be no man in her life. Even more, the way she talked about them proved that she did not have a very high opinion about them. It would have been difficult enough to be like that in the civilized world, but here, most of the other women were housewives or prostitutes. But here, in this small town, there were at least two women who went their own way: Andrea – and Cassandra DeRainier.
To Zenobia`s surprise, Andrea frowned when she mentioned that name.
„You – you know Miss DeRainier?“
„Well, I know her niece. She told me that Miss DeRainier would sure give me a chance to work for her.“
Andrea had stopped working on her printing press and looked deep into Zenobia`s eyes.
„Is that really all you know about her?“
Zenobia felt a bit uneasy: „W-well, y-y-yes“, she stammered.
Andrea smiled: „Sorry, I did not want to unsettle you. But, according to my researches, this Miss DeRainier is not the hones businesswoman she wants us to believe she is. I am sure she has got something to do with the robberies.“
Zenobia was perplexed: „Y-You mean, it was her that assaulted the coach?“
„No. She does not fit the description and besides, she has alibies for at least three of the robberies. But it somehow seems that her company did not suffer any real damage from these robberies.“
She fetched a blotter from her shelves.
„I`ve collected every hint I could get during the last six months. But I still lack evidence. If only I had someone who had access to her private office. One of her employees, for example...“
Zenobia nearly dropped the blotter.
„W-what are you talking about?“
Andrea`s eyes suddenly glanced: „If you just could keep your eyes open, I would be very grateful. If I was wrong, nothing will happen. But if I – we – could prove that she is a criminal, that would be a really big story! We cou´ld become famous!“
Zenobia looked at Andrea. She was an attractive woman and her eagerness was intriguing. So, she nodded and said:
„Well, if you allow me to spend the night here, tomorrow I will try to get employed by Miss DeRainier and will see what I can find out.“
The two women shook hands, then, they shortly embraced each other.
***
„65 dollars! That`s all! 65 dollars for risking our lifes! It`s just 14 bucks for each of us!“
„13“, the woman corrected her accomplice`s calculating skills. But Billy was right. Though they had hardly risked their lifes in assaulting a woman and a priest, this small sum was not what they had expected. It was not enough for getting new supplies, fresh horses or new weapons. And it was definitely not enough for their original purpose.
Viola Darlington had not become a robber for becoming rich herself. She was on the other hand no modern Robin Hood either. Her purpose was to support the Mexican revolution against their Austrian Emperor and his French supporters. Though Viola did not look Latin, she had Mexican ancestors and her cousin was fighting with Juarez. The USA put diplomatic pressure on France to withdraw it`s troops, but the Civil War had kept them from taking too much care of what happened south the border. Sure, in a few years they would increase their demands or even sent an army, but until then, Mexico would suffer under Emperor Maximilian`s rule. So, Viola had decided to help her cousin and his people a bit.
It had been surprisingly easy to find a few liable men who agreed with her that they had to avoid bloodshed. Since they were known for not harming their victims, these were less willingly to fight back and the Army or posses from the town did not hunt for them with much energy. It was just some money that was taken from the mining company, not from the ordinary working man.
However, after two assaults the mining company had guarded their transports better and Viola and her gang had started to assault stage coaches. It was still quite a small risk, but now, it turned out that the profit was small, too.
„I have said it, and I say it again! Let`s ride to White Skull and rob the bank! There must be thousands of dollars!“
Viola quickly raised her gun and shot. Though it had been a distance of some 15 yards, she hit his mug and it landed on the ground. Billy let out a cry of surprise and the others twitched, too. Viola looked at them with her cold grey eyes.
„Anyone of you who is quicker than me may take my post and make decisions. But, until then, you do as I say!“
After a few seconds, Billy mumbled an excuse and the others turned back to their coffee. Viola put the revolver back into the holster. Sometimes, she had to remind these men who was in command.
***
Arina nearly died from fear. She had heard terrible stories about the wild Apache, though they kept the peace treaty for several years in this part of Arizona now and Arina had hardly ever seen any Apaches when they had visited the market. But the stories were told anyway.
They tortured and killed innocent men, and they abducted the women to – well, Arina did not know too much about what Indian men – or men in general – did to women, but sure it was a horrific thing.
She had long given up getting loose. Her arms ached from being folded behind her head and her fingers were numb from the harsh binding. Her bent legs cramped and hurt, but she could do very little about it.
Her gag had soaked all saliva from her mouth, leaving her throat dry and making Arina feel thirsty. The leather band, though upholstered by her second stocking, cut into the corners of her mouth and her neck hurt for she had to keep her head arched back for what seemed ages now. First, Arina had moaned and whimpered through the sock stuffing her mouth, but the Apache had completely ignored her. Finally, she had resigned and just tried to calm down a bit.
Finally, they reached a small spring, surrounded by a few bushes. The Apache cut her from the saddle and put her in the shadow of one of these bushes. He let his horse drink and then, he approached her and drew his knife.
„Mmhhhrrrrrr!“
Arina let out a fearful cry, but he just cut her hogtie. The girl moaned from pain and relief when she was able to stretch her legs. When the Indian freed her legs and arms, they tingled painfully when the blood could once again circulate and it took some time before she could reach for her gag. The Apache had cut the leather band and allowed her to pull away the cleave gag by herself.
With a croak, she spat out the soaked stocking and wanted to crawl to the water, but he firmly grabbed her arm. Taking his canteen, he allowed her to take small sips until she felt better. Then, he put away his knife and went for his horse to get some food from the saddle bag.
It was now or never! Arina rose and sneaked to the next rock. Then, she began to run.
She could see the hills they had just passed. Somewhere behind them, there was their farm, the farms of their neighbours, safety!
Panicking, she looked over her shoulder. The Apache had mounted his horse and was following her. He did not ride very fast, knowing that his prey soon would be exhausted.
Sheer fear enabled Arina to keep on running. Some 100 yards ahead, there was a labyrinth of rocks and stones. Some of the gaps between these rocks were quite narrow – impossible to pass through on horseback! If she only reached these rocks, she would have a chance!
Once again, she turned her head. The Indian now was some 100 yards behind her. With a desperate cry, she tried to accelerate once more and reached the rocks. Slipping through a narrow gap, she ripped her slip, but did not even notice it. Arina did a zigzag course through the rocks until she finally collapsed under a big cliff that formed a small cave.
Arina tried to oppress her heavy panting and to remain as quiet and still as possible. She could hear the sound of hooves somewhere around. After a while, they became more and more silent until they disappeared.
„He has lost my trace! He is looking for me in the wrong direction!“
Arina let out a sigh of relief. If she was careful now, she could be back at the farm by dusk. It would not be easy, barefoot, scantily clad and exhausted as she was, but it would be worth the effort. Slowly, Arina came from her hideout and walked towards the direction where she presumed the farm was.
After only a few yards, something whizzed over her body. Before she could even move or make a sound, the lasso tightened around her ankles and a sharp pull made her fall over.
The rocks echoed from the girl`s frantic screams when Cuchillo, who had been lurking on the top of the very rock under which Arina had been hiding, pulled her from the ground. When the flailing girl was hanging upside down and not even the tips of her fingers reached the ground, he tied the other end of the lasso off and climbed down to her.
„No! You bastard! Help! Heeuuummmph!“
Cuchillo had clamped her mouth shut. Arina tried to beat him with her unbound arms, but he didn`t seem to notice her fists. He just pressed his hand over her mouth and nose until the lack of air forced her to stop fighting.
Taking his thumb from Arina`s nose and allowing her to take a breath, but keebing her mouth shut, he pressed her head against his thigh. With his free hand, he reached for his pocket and produced a white wad. It was the stocking that had previously gagged her and that wa still wet with her saliva.
„Uuuuhhmmmmm! Nnnngggg!“
Arina flailed and squirmed and tried to scratch him, but the Apache pressed the wad over her lips. Then, he once again squeezed her nose shut. Arina fought as long as she could, but finally, she had to accept being gagged with the damp wad again. The girl retched, but the Indian was not finished. Grabbing her by her scalp to force her to open her mouth, he stuffed the other stocking into her cheeks. Arina now felt like she would choke and made gurgling sounds through her gag.
Cuchillo grabbed the hemline of her slip that had slid up her body, revealing her knickers, and ripped it apart with one brutal yank.
„Mmmhhhrrrrrrmmmmm!“
Arina was now only clad in her flimsy camisole that was crumpled up and revealed her navel and a pair of white linen knickers. She once again tired to beat the Apache, but he now raised his knife and held it to her eyes until she calmed down, her breasts heaving from her heavy panting. She whimpered through her gag, but did not dare to spit the two stockings out when the Indian took his hand away.
Having cut her slip into stripes, he took one and twisted it until it was a strong, thick cord. He pushed the gag, that had come out a little, firmly back into Arina`s mouth before he pressed the twisted cloth between her teeth and tied it off in her neck with great ferocity.
„Uuuhhmmm! Mph! Mhmm!“
Once more ignoring her, the Apache turned the dangling woman around and tied her wrists behind her back. Arina squealed when he pressed her elbows together and tied these too, making the joints not only meet, but crushing them together. Next, another piece of rope was tied tightly around her waist, cutting into her naked flesh.
„Uuuuhhmmm!“
Cuchillo now climbed up the rock and loosened the lasso, taking care that the girl did not get hurt when he let her down. Then, he threaded the end of the lasso through her waist belt from the front and brought the rope between her legs. Tuning her on her belly, he took the rope and threaded it over the girl`s elbow tie. Then, he pulled.
„Hhhrrrrrrrmmmm! Uuuuhhhhhnnnnnn! Nnnngggg! Mmmmmppphhh!“
Arina mewed and groaned when the lasso was pulled tighter and tighter. It forced her to bring her bound ankles closer and closer to her lap. She had to open her thighs and to bend her legs into a lotus position – though she had never heard that word. Her arms were pulled down and pressed to her body, making her shoulders ache and forcing her boobs to thrust out even more. Finally, when her heels pressed into her crotch, she felt like she was split in two between her legs and her arms seemed immobile, he tied the rope off to her thumbs.
„Mmmmhhhh! Mph!“
She looked at him with sheer fear when he took two more long strips from the remnants of her slip. The Apache wrapped her head with these from her chin to her forehead, blindfolding the girl and further muffling her cries. Arina felt that he tightened these wraps with some rope he tied over her head, one strap over her mouth, the other over her eyes. Soon, an increasing pressure told her that he once again had chosen wet leather strings for that purpose who quickly dried in the hot sun.
Cuchillo carried the bound, gagged and blindfolded girl to his horse and once again secured her to the saddle. Then, he climbed a hill and examined the area. Obviously, there was noone looking for him or his victim. He smiled. Though it had cost him some time, he had enjoyed the hunt and he was glad that his prey was a feisty one.
***
„Mhhrrrr! Uuuhhmmphh! Nnnngggg!“
Zenobia screamed into her gag, but to no avail. The captain came closer and closer. She squirmed in her tight bonds, but he just smiled and said:
„Easy, girl. You just had an evil dream!“
Zenobia felt a hand on her forehead and opened her eyes. It took her some time until she realized that she was lying in the bed of Andrea and that her host was gently caressing her cheek. Since Andrea had only one sleeping room, the had agreed upon sharing the bed, at least for this night.
Zenobia panted and calmed down. The nightmares had haunted her for quite some time after she and Queena had left the pirate ship, but she had thought she had finally overcome her trauma. But obviously, being bound and gagged once more had somehow triggered her.
„S-sorry, Andrea, I-I-I-“
„Shhh! It`s okay. You are just a bit confused after today`s events. that`s more than natural.“
„No! It`s more! It`s that-“
Suddenly, Zenobia burst out in tears. Andrea took her in her arms and held her till she had calmed down a bit. Then, she looked directly into the black woman`s eyes.
„Don`t you want to tell me what`s weighing on your soul, dear? I am asking as a friend, not as a journalist.“
Zenobia looked into Andrea`s face lit by the oil lamp on the nightchest. Her brown curls were dishevelled for she had already been sleeping and there were small wrinkles around her blue eyes. But these wrinkles did not make her look old – they made her look wise and friendly, though she was at the most ten years older than Zenobia.
Haltingly, Zenobia started to tell Andrea everything about her ordeal a few months ago. She told about her failed escape attempt, the treatment by the pirates and how she had ended up with Reggie. She even mentioned her encounters with Queena, though she spared most of the details.
All the time, Andrea held her in her arms and when she was finished, she kissed her cheek. Zenobia felt a violent dsire to turn her head and kiss her lips, but she fought it down. She was not sure if Andrea`s kiss had not been just a sign of friendship and she did not want to destroy this friendship by confusing her new friend. So, she just cuddled into her arms and soon, she once again slept soundly.
***
Nascha looked into the night, waiting for Cuchillo top come back from his damned adventure. Her name meant „owl“ and indeed, she had no problems in seeing details in the dark around her. But it was the sound of hooves that told her that someone was coming.
Actually, Nascha was not a born Apache woman, but she did not remember her Mexican name or her real parents. More than 30 years ago, Mexican soldiers had attacked an Apache village and killed several women and children, among them the son of the chief, Poder, as the Mexicans called him. As a revenge, Poder and his braves had attacked a Mexican village and when they had come back, Poder had brought his wife a baby from this village. His wife had adopted the little girl as hers and given her the name „Nascha“. She had raised it like her own child and Nascha had become an Apache. Until one year ago, she had lived among the tribe of Poder`s successor, until one evening a young brave had visited their village. It had been Cuchillo. Though he was just some 23, he had already made a name as an excellent fighter with his knife and both the Mexicans and the U. S. Army were hunting for him. Pacito, the new chief, had been a bit concerned that this young hotspur would bring the whites on their tracks, but Nascha had been fascinated by this young man. He was not a very handsome man, but he sure had charisma and Nascha had fallen in love almost at first sight. Her husband had died three years ago and since she was some 33 by now, the other braves were either married or not interested in her. The fact that she had not given birth to a child had not increased her status in the small community.
In the first night, Nascha had sneaked into Cuchillo`s tent – and her cries from lust had awaken the whole village soon after. The next morning, Cuchillo had left and she had gone with him.
Nascha still loved the young brave, though he had proven to be a difficult partner. Cuchillo was fascinated by the women and girls of the White. For a while, Nascha had tried to fulfil is needs and had started to dress in a mixture of traditional and European clothes, but she had to find out that, despite he had sincere feelings towards her, he was longing for a white woman.
Five days ago, he had left and said:
„If I am not back after one week, you will be alone. If I will be back before, we will be three.“
Nascha had tried to dissuade him from his plan of abducting a white girl, but he just did not listen. Cuchillo hardly became angry and he had never beaten her, but his look had told her that she could either accept the new woman or leave him. More than once during these five days, she had thought of going back to her tribe or even back to the Mexicans, but she just could not do it. And now, when she heard his horse approaching, Nascha felt joy and relief.
When he was some 20 yards away, Nascha could see that he was walking and that his horse was loaded with a big bundle. It was a securely trussed up female body and despite the dark she could see that the skin was fair, though the sun had reddened parts of her naked arms and legs. The girl`s head was encased in some cloth and wrapped with leather straps and so, she could not tell if Cuchillo`s prey was pretty or not.
„You dumb thing“, she scolded herself in her thoughts. Of course, she was pretty. Prettier than her and at any rate younger. Though she went over to Cuchillo and responded to his kiss, Nasch already felt jealous.
„So, you have been – successful?“, she asked him, nodding towards the trussed up girl. She had not moved or made a sound yet, obviously, she had fainted.
Cuchillo grinned: „Of course, my dear! You know, for me, it`s always victory or death. And since I am still alive...“
He pressed his body against hers and she could feel that he was indeed more than just alive. But, though she felt a tingle in her loins, she turned away from him.
„And you are sure that nobody followed you?“
Now, Cuchillo seemed a bit insulted: „The day a white man manages to follow me without me noticing it, I will immediately surrender and spend my days in one of their dreadful reservations! But now, you could take care of my horse whilst I bring our – guest – into the tent.“
Nascha took the reins whilst he cut Arina loose and carried the now slightly squirming and moaning bundle iside the teepee. When she entered the tent, Nascha could see that he had already tied the girl`s hands behind the main post and had released her legs. The girl flailed a bit, but Nascha could tell from her sweat-clad camisole and knickers that had become quite transparent that she was totally exhausted.
Now, Cuchillo had cut the leather straps and unwrapped the cloth strips from Arina`s head. Nascha could see a pair of widened blue eyes staring at her between streaks of sweaty and dishevelled light brown hair. Her lips were parted by a thick cloth and the way her cheeks bulged told Nascha that the girl`s mouth was stuffed to the bursting.
„Mmhhmmm!“, she moaned, pleadingly looking at the Indian woman.
„You-want me to give her some water?“, Nascha asked. She had no real intention to be friendly to a woman she considered to be her rival, but she wanted to seem interested in her. The white girl was indeed young, some 18 or 19 years, maybe. In addition, she was quite beautiful, though her exhaustion and the gag in her mouth diminuished her beauty. But Nascha could see that she had a slender, well proportioned body and ample breasts.
Drawing by hugues66
„Well – not yet. Now, she may sleep – or see what being the wife of Cuchillo means.“
Nascha was reluctant. She did not want to sleep with Cuchillo whilst this white bitch was watching. On the other hand, he had been away for five days. So, reluctantly, she allowed him to undress her and followed him onto their bed.
Arina did not find much sleep, despite her exhaustion. What she was witnessing now some two yards away from her, haunted her mind with a mixture of fear and fascination.
***